


A kit just for me

by SPCMRose



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Animal Death, Cuddling & Snuggling, Hero Derek, M/M, derek gets a fox, pet fox
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-30
Updated: 2014-09-30
Packaged: 2018-02-19 09:09:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2382842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SPCMRose/pseuds/SPCMRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek finds a fox. Stiles helps him figure out how to care for it. Fluff and... stuff?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A kit just for me

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this.](http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2012/05/29/article-2151495-13559C16000005DC-481_634x424.jpg)
> 
> My [tumblr](http://spcmrose.tumblr.com), check it out? :P
> 
> This work is UNBETA'd
> 
> P.S. I'm sorry...? :/

Mewling, quiet but sharp and piercing. It wasn’t hard for Derek to hear it, even though it was faint. Faint because something was _wrong_. He tilted his head, placing down the notebook he was paging through. There it was again, the pathetic whimper of a creature just within the forest outside. Derek glared in annoyance, but stood up and grabbed his jacket.

The material was warm under his fingers, having been leaning on it as he read. The couch wasn’t much more than rotten springs, but he still managed to find some comfort when he sat on it. The door hung open, shifting back and forth with the wind. Derek shrugged on his jacket, breezing past the tarnished wood in the direction of the sound.

He wasn’t sure why he bothered. If anything, it would probably be a sick mountain lion or abandoned runt of some litter. None the less, his feet carried him into the dark, and his eyes flashed icy blue as he tried to maneuver through the dense woods.

Derek hardly _explored_ the forest anymore. Sure, he ran- _a lot_ \- but it wasn’t the same. Not since… not since his sister died. Now though, he felt his chest tighten as he fought off his memories. He pushed through the wild growth, closing in on the ever lengthening mewls.

The moon was high in the sky, nearly full. Derek could feel it’s affect, settling heavily into his bones. Instead of hindering him however, it spurred him on. Reminded him how far he had come with his control, how much he had grown. The newfound energy spurred his movement, and he found himself sprinting.

Wind whistled past him as he leapt over roots and ducked under branches. He easily dodged the large oaks, finally finding a rhythm to run to. As he grew closer to his goal- his prey -Derek began to rely on his sense of smell. The damp undergrowth assaulted his nostrils with an earthy and acrid scent. There was a pleasant scent to the East, perhaps lilacs or tulips, but Derek wasn’t searching for that.

Deeper into the forest, he picked up on the sharp taste of running water, fresh and enticing. As he tried to pick apart the manifold of smells, a mewl sounded once again. He sniffed, his nose itching as he delved deeper into the scents around him. Finally he picked up on it, sweat and desperation.

It wasn’t a scent he was overly glad to find, but the obvious sign of distress was a far better lead than waiting on the creature to continue it’s cries for help. Derek pushed himself to move faster, turning slightly and digging his heels harder into the crunchy earth below him.

The temperature had dropped to freezing levels when he finally found the ledge. It wasn’t too deep of a drop, perhaps six or seven feet, but the clay soil it was founded on had been drenched. Derek thought back to how long ago the last storm was- perhaps two or three nights ago -because that was probably when the rockslide had occurred, trapping whatever creature he was searching for.

He huffed a breath before jumping down, landing with a thud as he began eyeing the mess of rock and dirt. His eyes caught on claw marks just to his right, and he followed the sign of struggle. There was a small bundle of fur, coated in dried mud and shifting in irritation.

Derek found himself smirking, realizing the creature wasn’t even stuck on a rock, it was stuck on a can, it’s head wedged within the small tin cylinder. He quickly reached forward, hefting the tiny body into his arms and holding it still.

Using as little force as possible, Derek tugged. The can fell loose after a moment of struggle, and he discarded it carelessly on the ground. The body was still in his arms, only shivering every few moments with another whimper. He adjusted the fur bundle so he could make sense of what the creature was.

It’s coat was covered entirely brown from the mud, but there was no mistaking it’s pointy eyes and long snout. Derek scoffed, of all the things he was stuck with, it had to be a fox.

The tiny thing curled it’s tail around it’s body and Derek shifted so his jacket hung over the fox’s shivering frame. The last thing he wanted was to carry a frozen popsicle back to the Hale house. Derek eyed the surroundings once more, seeing if he could spot the animal’s family. He scented the air as well, but could only pick up on the sharp scent of the creature in his arms.

He huffed and began to make his way home. From what he could tell, the animal in his arms wasn’t going to die, and Derek wasn’t one to worry. Although, if he had to guess, it would probably be wise of him to take the animal to a vet. Derek simply shrugged though, and decided that the fox would survive if it was strong enough.

When he made it back to the home, he pulled out all the blankets- even the half burned ones -and wrapped the fox up. Once he did that, he tucked it into a small hole in one of the walls and settled onto the couch in front of it. It was late, and Derek was tired. He’d done enough by freeing the animal, maybe tomorrow he would consider cleaning it up.

As Derek drifted into slumber, he couldn’t help but focus on the lull of the fox’s calming heartbeat. It’d been a long time since he’d slept with another being nearby.

X

“No,” Derek snapped finally with an angry glare. The damn fox was staring at him with obsidian beedy eyes, as though imploring him to _give him his meal_. Derek hardly ever cooked now, so he often ate takeaway. When he’d woken up that morning he’d headed out to grab a chicken wrap along with some stuff for the fox.

Now though, the stupid creature was ignoring it’s bowl of dog food in favor of ogling Derek’s own meal. So far it had moved on to pathetic whimpers to pawing at Derek’s calf and he was sick of it. “Eat your own food or I’ll rip your tail off.”

Derek wasn’t sure what to expect, but it was quite obvious his threats were lost on the fox. It simply mewled once again and kneaded it’s paws against his leg once more. With a huff, Derek glanced around him as though checking to see if anyone was watching, before picking out a chunk of chicken from his meal and offering it to the still-filthy fox.

The creature yipped and pounced at the meat, gulping it down ravenously. Derek glared at it as he finished his own meal. Once the fox was done, it must have been extremely grateful for it’s tail straightened and it hopped up onto Derek’s lap.

He glared at it as it curled into a small ball on it’s lap, it’s snout opened wide with a yawn as it settled in for a nap. Derek glared as the animal’s breath deepened as it slipped into slumber. So far the dumb creature had been more trouble than Derek had thought possible.

With a grunt he stood up swiftly, the animal tumbling off him and falling to the ground with a startled squeak. Derek sent an annoyed glare it’s way before heading into the lower floor bathroom, the only one left in the house with working plumbing.

There wasn’t any hot water, but Derek figured the fox could endure the cool water considering it was going to be clean once more. As he shuffled around the charred bathroom, a mewl sounded from behind him followed by something rubbing against his leg. With an exasperated groan, Derek glanced down. Sure enough the fox was rubbing against his leg, getting mud all over Derek’s only pair of good jeans.

It looked up at him with a half-lidded expression, it’s head tilting slightly as though in a teasing manner. Derek shut the water off with a glare. The fox seemed resigned as he plucked it up and slowly lowered it’s tiny form into the basin. It shivered at the contact of the cold water, raising it’s lips in a snarl. Derek rolled his eyes and began washing the creature.

He’s bought some cheap pet shampoo and swiftly went about washing down the animals coat. Slowly the dried mud washes away, revealing a vibrant redwood coat. The fox began to shiver from the water, and being almost as small as Derek’s hand, the movement shook the fox’s body and Derek moved quickly to finish off cleaning the pest.

The whole time the fox watched him, it’s resigned expression grating on Derek’s patience and finally he emptied the basin, letting the muddy water run down into the drain. The fox barked happily at that, and Derek glared at the creature as he wrapped it up in a towel and dumped it uncaringly back into it’s ‘bed in a hole’.

Derek then grabbed a lukewarm bottle of water, drinking from it as he lowered himself back onto the couch. The werewolf ignored the quiet scratching, in favor of glaring at the fox as it dug at the towel encasing him. His eyes tracked the tiny creature’s movements, finding amusement in the way it struggled against it’s trappings.

Eventually the animal realised it was stuck, and let out a ‘whoof’ of air, it’s tiny head dropping to it’s paws. Derek smirked in triumph and waited patiently until the creature huffed once more. Its eyes looked to him slowly, and when he finally allowed himself to meet it’s gaze, it tilted it’s head almost pleadingly.

“If I let you free you have to eat the dogfood,” Derek told it gruffly and crouched down to unbundle the fox. It’s ears flickered once it was free, and it trotted over to the bowl, chomping down on the food with surprising eagerness. Derek glared, of course it decided to like the food now, when Derek was forcing it to eat.

He finished off the rest of his water as the fox licked the bowl clean, it hummed happily as it trotted around the living room. The animal then sniffed around, its tail swishing back and forth as it explored. Derek knew he should probably watch the fox, but he figures he’s not much of a babysitter.

Instead he gets up and pulls out his phone. He needs information, and there’s no way he’s going to a library to research it. So he taps swiftly as his phone, only looking up when he’s finally done. With a start he realises that the fox is no longer in the room, but he can hear the quiet padding of its feet deeper in the house.

Derek debates whether to leave the fox as he goes for his run, but decides he’d much prefer to take the creature with him than leave it here to explore the charred remains of his home. It was barely safe enough for Derek, certainly not safe enough for a tiny fox.

The fox is currently sniffing at a toppled table as Derek crouches and gestures with his head. “We’re going outside,” he tells it and heads towards the backdoor. It swings open with a nudge of his foot and Derek doesn’t bother grabbing his jacket as he jogs to the treeline.

It takes a few minutes and they’re deep in the forest when the fox finally catches up. It’s out of breath, panting frantically as it brushes and yips at his side. Derek glares at it for a few feet before rolling his eyes at its weak state. In a one swift move Derek leans down and picks it up, letting it rest against his chest as he continued to run through the trails.

The fox watched Derek run, its obsidian eyes looking almost considering. As he ran, the fox slowly shifted itself, tucking its small head into the crook of Derek’s elbow. When Derek glanced at it again, the fox had fallen asleep. His glare softened and although Derek wouldn’t admit it, he may have adjusted his grip on the creature so it was almost like he was hugging it.

X

Derek wished he hadn’t contacted Stiles. Hell, he just wished the fox would bite him already instead of lapping at the boy’s hand as though it tasted like finely seasoned steak. “Aw! He likes me! Derek a fox likes me! This is awesome, Scott isn’t going to believe this. Derek Hale, ultimate sourwolf has a _pet fox_. A kit at that. Hey wait, don’t foxes and wolves hate each other? How are you-”

“Shut up,” Derek interrupts with a glare. “I didn’t ask you to be a chew toy for the runt Stiles.”

The teen pouted, his lips puckering as he scratched behind the kit’s ear. “He wouldn’t ever bite me. Would yah boy? Huh? No that’s right. What’s your name anyway? Wookie? Ace? _Onyx_? Oh wait, Mr. Grumpycat back there probably hasn’t named you yet. You know, because he’s all-”

“Damnit Stiles! Shut up or I will scratch your mouth off,” Derek growled and knelt down, tugging the fox into his arms. Stiles had only just gotten here, but already Derek was finding his patience wearing thin. And no, it wasn’t because he was jealous that the fox liked Stiles so much. Even though Derek _saved its life_.

Stiles smirked, his amber eyes lighting up. “What? With your itty bitty kitty claws?” Derek growled and the teen flinched, raising his arms in surrender. “Woah! Hey calm down sourwolf. You’re the one who asked me for help, I stayed up late getting all this info for you. Least you could do is hold back your-” he waved his hand back in forth in gesture. “-Claws and teeth.”

“Fine,” Derek agreed in resignation, placing down the fox. It immediately ran back to Stiles, lapping at his hands once more. He huffed and headed to the kitchen, grabbing a juice.

The teen was sitting now, letting the fox curl up in his lap. “So I found out a few things. Don’t let it fruits, chocolates, caffeine and potatoes.You also need to get a cage for it, and a litter box. Oh! And you really need to get him checked out by the vet.”

“It’s a wild animal Stiles,” Derek grumbled. Stiles had brought him about a dozen pages of information in a manilla folder, no doubt thousands of words on how to care for a baby fox. “I’m not _domesticating_ it.”

Stiles frowned and ran his fingers through the soft coat of the fox. It was sleeping peacefully now, enjoying the teen’s warmth. “So how’d you find this little guy anyway? He seems pretty… I don’t know. Pretty awesome, like he kinda gets you’re trying to help it. Which is weird, animals you find in the forest aren’t normally like this.”

“He was stuck in a can,” the werewolf informed the boy simply, but at his annoyed gaze Derek crossed his arms. “I found him stuck in a can, must’ve been like that for a few nights. I took him back and gave him a couple of blankets.”

Once again the fox began humming, its ears twitching at the boys constant petting. “Well that’s interesting. Sourwolf taking care of a fox. Derek Hale gave him a _blankie_. I guess I can’t really blame you, this guy is adorable. But he’s got a set of teeth that’s for sure. I think I’m going to call him Fang.”

Derek quirked a brow.

“See! He likes it! Don’t you fang?” The fox was gazing at Stiles now, and at the mention of his new name the kit’s tongue flicked out. It left a trail of saliva on Stiles’s face, and the boy beamed, hugging the fox to his chest. “Yes! You and me buddy, don’t worry I’ll protect you from sourwolf. He’s a werewolf you know? Fangs, claws, and scary eyes. Eyes just like that!”

As Derek let out a rumbling growl, he wondered when his glares began to lose their effect on Stiles. Oh well, like Stiles had said, he still had canines sharp enough to rip the teen’s throat out.

X

Derek glared at the fox who had followed him to the door. It had been asleep in its little den, and Derek had taken the chance to run and grab some lunch. But the fox had shot straight after Derek with a fearful yip and now looked like it wouldn’t be letting Derek get food any time soon. “Stay here.”

The fox tilted its head, barking a few times. Derek didn’t like the idea of taking a fox shopping with him, and he was more than happy to slam the front door shut in its face. The other day however, just before Stiles had left, the boy had reminded Derek once again _not_ to leave the kit by itself.

With a groan Derek pulled out his phone and dialed Stiles’s number. The boy picked up on the fourth ring. “Hey Derek. What’s up? The fox finally lick you yet?”

“No uh-” Derek shook his head and glared at his cellphone. “-Look just get over here. I’ve got to do some things for a few hours and you’re the one who insisted upon not letting the kit be by himself.”

At his words the fox whimpered sadly, as though realising that Derek was going to be leaving it for a while. Its big obsidian eyes bored into Derek but he ignored the fox in favor of focusing on the call. “Nope. Sorry. I’ve got a bunch of homework to do, as much as I want to look after Fang. I can try Scott-”

“Fine. I’ll drop Fang- _the fox_ off at your room,” Derek growled and ended the call before Stiles could disagree. He grabbed his jacket and pushed the door open, letting the fox follow him to his car. “Get in,” he told it and pulled the passenger door open. “Don’t get any crap on my seat.”

With an excited bark it jumped onto the passenger seat, leaning back on its haunches as Derek moved around the driver’s side and climbed in. He glanced over at the fox, assuring himself the animal wasn’t going to fly off the seat any time soon, he started up his Camaro.

Stiles’s house was quiet when Derek arrived, no doubt the Sheriff wasn’t home. Derek held his door open and the fox jumped over the divider and out through the driver’s door. He lead it to the back of the Stilinski house and picked it up as he clambered up the side of the house.

The window slid open with ease, and Derek was standing behind Stiles when the teen turned from his laptop. The boy let out a shocked squawk as Derek lowered the fox. It immediately began to sniff around its surroundings, and Derek hoped it would avoid the washing basket in the corner. Teens didn’t always have the most clean… Well. Let’s just say Derek didn’t like to know so much of Stiles every time he visited.

“Woah- H-Yeah. Hi Derek, come in. Door’s open,” Stiles let out a deep breath before watching the fox as it explored. “I know I said I’d fox-sit any time but _seriously_?”

Derek moved back to the window. “I did call,” he said gruffly as he let the window shut behind him. Stiles frowned, and went back to work, only to be interrupted by a whimper.

At the second whimper he turned, seeing the fox looking at the window with a devastated look on his face. “Aw Fang. Don’t worry Derek will be back soon. Besides, you got Stiles here.”

The fox turned to focus on Stiles, its ears twitching and its tail flicking in excitement. Before it jumped onto Stiles’s lap however, it turned longingly once more to the window.

X

Derek was sitting quietly at the table, eating the latest chinese takeaway he’d gotten. Fang was laying comfortably at the other end of the table, having just finished his meal of grilled chicken. He’d relented, buying the fox some food as well. It seemed to get him in the creature’s good books though, because it had finally nuzzled his hand like it often did with Stiles.

It wasn’t a lick, but Derek didn’t want to be licked. Not by a fox… right?

Once he’d finished eating, Fang perked up and followed after Derek as he moved into the loungeroom. There was a mattress there now, because Fang had whined constantly when Derek didn’t sleep only a few feet from him. Besides… that hadn’t been the only reason. It was convenient to sleep downstairs, where the bathroom worked and the food was nearby.

Fang yipped and clambered to snuggle into Derek’s side as the werewolf lowered himself on the mattress. He pulled out the many pages of research Stiles had given him, and his free hand absently wondered over to rest on Fang’s head. He patted the fox as it continued to nuzzle against his side.

_Male foxes, when courting females, are found to nuzzle or rub their snout against-_

Woah.

Wait what?

Derek’s hand froze over the fox’s head as he quickly read on.

_-The female’s body. They will often present the female with food and groom them by licking roughly at their underside._

His eyes travelled back to the fox as it sniffed and went back to nuzzling Derek’s stomach. The werewolf narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t being groomed, and if anything Fang was _stealing_ Derek’s food. He really shouldn’t be overreacting right now.

“Says here you need lots of exercise,” Derek scoffs. Each time he’d tried to get the fox to run it would always sit and wait until Derek picked it up and ran with it. “I’m not going to buy you a stroller when you get too fat to move Fang.”

The fox simply sniffled again and continued nuzzling.

Derek glared, throwing away the papers and picking the notebook back up with a sigh. It seemed the kit he rescued was the least predictable creature he’d ever met, and if it didn’t appreciate the effort Derek wanted to then he certainly wasn’t going to bother.

A bark interrupted his reading and Derek looked up. He hadn’t notice Fang get up from the mattress, but now he watched the tiny fox as it perked its ears and rose on its hind legs. Derek scoffed, of course it wanted to play now that Derek was done trying to get it exercise.

He swore if it was possible, the fox was tormenting him.

His gaze flickered to a plastic shopping bag by the couch and grinned. With a satisfied smirk he lent forward and pulled out one of the things he’d bought shopping last time.

“Fetch,” he told the fox and threw the burger squeaky toy.

Fang glared.

Derek smirked.

Life was good.

X

He hadn’t known there was a clearing until Fang had lead him too it. It had taken three weeks for the fox to finally agree to running with Derek. He’d dashed off ahead of the werewolf, leading the man deep into the forest and down paths he hadn’t known existed.

Derek glared at it as it rolled in the field of bright white wildflowers. Fang continued to eye Derek pleadingly, letting out whimpers every few minutes. “No,” he told it.”

The fox pleaded again, this time sitting up and pawing at a spot of flowers next to him. Derek continued to lean against a nearby tree impatiently. Seeing that the man wasn’t moving, Fang trotted forward and bit Derek’s calf.

He hissed in pain as he collapsed, not expecting such sharp teeth from a baby fox. Fang raised it’s head, tail swishing as Derek ended up on his ass. Derek could have sworn Fang was _smirking_ with his victory.

“Shut up,” Derek growled but it only made the fox jump onto his lap and nuzzle at his chest.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky Fang began to claw at the flowers. Eventually he picked one up between his teeth and carried it over to Derek, placing it on the man’s knee. Derek watched as the fox continued to do this, getting a mix of dirt and weeds all over Derek’s jeans.

Finally satisfied with its work, the fox trotted off. Derek studied- _admired_ -the flowers for a few more minutes before brushing the mess off and listening closely to Fang’s movements. He heard as the fox pattered off, eventually hearing a low growl and a sharp _gurgling_ noise.

Derek was on his feet instantly, he knew the sound of death and the smell of blood. Before he knew it he was running on all fours, searching frantically for Fang. There was an obvious sign of struggle just below a large oak, and he rounded it slowly, his breaths caught in his throat.

What if the fox had been killed? He should have been watching it. He shouldn’t have let it run off. Stiles is going to kill him, hell, Derek might even kill himself because Fang-

Fang is trotting up to him, a dead and bloody lizard stuck in his mouth.

With a happy- but muffled -bark, Fang drops the lizard at Derek’s feet.

A few minutes later, Fang finally notices something is wrong and nuzzles at Derek’s legs with a whimper. His snout is drenched in blood, and it smears over Derek’s jeans.

His good pair of jeans.

He sighs and bends down, picking Fang up and pressing the kit against his chest.

X

Stiles is at his door. Stiles is inside his house for no apparent reason. Derek hadn’t called him to fox-sit, nor had he asked for more information on foxes. But he figured he could at least get some work done, not that he had much to do.

There was a bed he’d been working on for Fang, so Derek headed into the spare room and finished off nailing the framework together. It would be simple, a small box with a hole in it along with a tiny platform for a water bowl. He was sick of the fox sleeping in the hole-in-the-wall-den because each time Fang came out of it after a nap, he was covered in soot and dust.

He could hear faint thumps every few moments, followed by happy barks and pleased bubbles of laughter. No doubt Stiles was _wrestling_ with Fang, or even teasing the kit with a laser. Derek shook his head and huffed as he began sanding the wood.

Derek tried not to think about the fact that when Stiles arrived the fox had immediately began licking at every inch of his bare skin. Or about the fact that Stiles had brought Fang a giant tub of grilled chicken. The worst thing is that Fang’s tail hadn’t stopped swishing since he’d spotted it.

The werewolf would have bought Fang plenty of chicken, but Derek wasn’t one to buy affection. Wait… not _affection_ \- Just… “Derek! Hey Derek I think something’s wrong with Fang!”

Stiles had only just finished the sentence when Derek was sprinting into the room. He immediately looked to fang, who was crumpled on the floor and shaking. No- wait- “He’s having a seizure Derek.”

It surprised even Derek by how quickly he had his phone out, calling the only vet he knew. Stiles had taken the frantic wave of Derek’s hand as a sign that he should _probably_ get moving. The teen carefully lifted Fang’s still shaking form and held him cautiously as he made his way to his jeep,

Derek spoke frantically to Deaton as he slid in the passenger side of the jeep. If he hadn’t been in a rush, he might have realised how much he hated Stiles’s jeep, and how very much he’d prefer to be in his camaro. But instead Stiles lowered Fang onto his lap before racing around to the driver’s side and climbing in.

The jeep was racing as Derek spoke quickly to Deaton. Fang had stopped seizing a few moments earlier, but his eyes were closed and his head was lolling back and forth as the jeep went over bumps and potholes.

Stiles was talking now, and Derek held the phone limply in one hand as he smoothed Fang’s mussed fur. There wasn’t even time to begin to wonder what was wrong before they were pulling into a parking lot and Stiles was shouting again.

Derek followed the teen as he babbled on, saying things like, “Fang’s going to be okay,” and “Sourwolf you gotta stop gripping him so tight.”

Then Deaton was there, and he gestured to the metal table in front of him. Derek lowered Fang down and the fox’s eyes flickered open tiredly. “Has he been fainting? Vomiting? Have you noticed him losing his appetite?”

When Derek answered no to all the vet’s question, the man pressed along the fox’s ribs, his brows furrowing. “And when you found him, did you notice his gums being white or pale?”

“He was fine,” Derek snapped a bit too loudly, causing Fang to whimper.

Stiles shot a death glare Derek’s way before bending down to face Fang. “Ignore Mr. Grumpywolf. Remember what I told you? He’s an angry big werewolf.”

“I’m going to give him some Diazepam. It should prevent anymore seizures. If you could Stiles, there’s a basin out back. It would be wise to get Fang some water,” Deaton explained to them calmly before leaving through a side door.

Fang huffed and Stiles patted the fox once before leaving to grab some water. Derek watched Fang for all but five minutes before Deaton returned, syringe in hand. The fox whined when the needle pierced his neck, but Derek soothed it with a rub to its flank.

It thirty seconds for Stiles to come back into the room, and thirty seconds for Fang to begin convulsing again.

X

Derek was exhausted, his body stiff from the position he held by Fang’s side. The fox hadn’t stopped seizing all night, until now. Now he just lay frighteningly still and Deaton was talking in hushed tones.

He’d explained it five times now, in various different ways. Derek hadn’t gathered much more than the fact that _Fang was going to die_.

“How long?” Stiles asked, his voice raspy.

Deaton watched Derek for a few moments as he smoothed the same patch of fur over and over again, before turning to Stiles. “Not long.”

Stiles hisses a breath through his teeth as Derek’s entire body freezes. “And there’s nothing we can do? No voodoo spells or magic werewolf bites?”

“No Stiles,” Deaton said his voice grave. “I’m afraid there’s nothing to be done.”

There was a crunch of metal as Derek’s grip grew too tight on the examination table, and Stiles ran his hands through his hair in frustration. “So what? We just watch him die? Because I think that’s really, _really_ -”

“Shut up Stiles,” Derek warns him tiredly. Fang wiggles under his hand.

Stiles glares at Derek for a few minutes, before taking a seat next to Derek. Deaton watched them both before glancing at his watch. “I’m going to go and… take care of a few things. I’ll be right outside if you need me.”

And then the vet is gone, and it’s just Stiles, Derek and Fang.

Almost as though he was _waiting_ for Deaton to leave, Fang’s eyes open once more and his gaze focuses on Derek weakly. “Hey,” Derek says gruffly.

“You know this sucks,” Stiles spits venomously. “This sucks a lot.” He then proceeds to storm out of the room leaving Derek along with the fox.

Fang watches Derek, and Derek watches fang. The fox mewls and nuzzles Derek’s hand. Derek glares, it twitched its ears.

Slowly Fang moves, so his snout is in line with Derek’s hand. Derek could barely breath as he watched the kit, the fox looked utterly exhausted by the minimal movement.

He watches as Fang opens his maw, his tongue slowly sliding out and licking a long wet trail of saliva over Derek’s hand before his eyes gradually fall shut.

* * *

 

Epilogue

* * *

 

They bury Fang in the forest, between a giant oak and a patch of wild flowers. Stiles doesn’t leave after the ceremony, and stays babbling about Scott and lacrosse and his dad. Derek listens half heartedly as he lights a fire, dropping all the research on foxes Stiles had done.

“Of course Scott hasn’t watched Star Wars though, even though you’d think he would have. We’re best friends for life, Derek, that’s like, friendship for _eternity_ , and he can’t even bother to watch one stupid movie?” Derek picks up the half finished fox-bed and rips it apart with one strong werewolf-power tug.

He drops it into the growing fire and heads back into the house. Stiles follows after him. “It’s a good movie too. Hey! You’ve seen it right? Oh my God if you’ve seen it and Scott hasn’t- I mean no offence but you don’t even have a _television_.”

Derek picks up the dog food and blankets, grabbing the pet shampoo and burger chew toy. He somehow manages to fit the stupid bundle of wilted wildflowers in the crook of his elbow. All of it is dumped into the fire and Derek watches the flames with a scowl.

“It’s kinda funny though right?” Stiles asks randomly. “I mean, maybe you aren’t a Sci-fi kind of guy?” He pokes at the fire with a twig.

They both watch the flames until night falls, and even then they simply pulls out all the blankets Fang never _touched_ and lie down. Derek watches the stars, whilst Stiles snores loudly by his side.

X

Stiles is a lot like Fang.

Derek hates that thought, because it reminds him of yet another soul he has to grieve, but its true. Stiles has been showing up at the Hale house almost every afternoon. Derek’s loungeroom now has an old television and a battered Playstation. There’s also an exorbitant amount of curly fries sitting on his dining room table each night.

The teen follows him around as Derek works on the house. He babbles about simple nothing’s that Derek actually finds himself listening to. Stiles is disobedient, he ignores Derek’s threats in favor of nudging Derek in the ribs.

It’s an odd habit that Derek’s noticed of the boy, but it reminds him so much of when Fang used to teasingly nuzzle Derek’s waist with an ear twitch and a tail flick.

One day Stiles brings over his assigned reading, and Derek finds him sprawled on the mattress- no longer in the lounge room but in the _upstairs_ bedroom -with his tongue sticking out in concentration. Derek can’t help but lie down next to him and read from his journal.

Then the next day Stiles is reading _How To Kill a Mockingbird_ , also for English, and Derek helps him with the homework questions. He isn’t sure why.

Derek gets a call from Stiles on a Thursday, and soon the boy is in the forest clearing with Derek, hauling lacrosse balls at him and laughing about how pathetic Derek is at the sport even with werewolf powers.

They end up with Derek leaning against a too familiar oak, and Stiles sitting next to him, head resting on his shoulder. There’s something entirely weird about it, but so right as well and Derek can’t help but snatch Stiles’s lacrosse ball and chuck it far into the distance.

“Fetch,” he tells the boy.

Stiles glared.

Derek smirked.

 

**Author's Note:**

> My [tumblr](http://spcmrose.tumblr.com), check it out? :P


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